


I’ve Got My White Flag Up and It’s Waving

by yas_m



Series: You Still Pull Me Home [1]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Break Up, Canon Divergence, Childhood Sweethearts, Comfort, F/M, Family, Hurt, Misunderstandings, Reunion, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5770594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yas_m/pseuds/yas_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU / Taylor Shaw was never taken as child. She grew up next to the Wellers. She and Kurt dated, for a while, until it all turned to hell. They broke up and she left. Ten years later, she comes back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’ve Got My White Flag Up and It’s Waving

Taylor stepped onto the pavement, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath in. It felt so good to be back home, so good. After almost a decade in Europe, Taylor was happy to finally be back home. The memories she'd left New York City with weren't the best, but they were right, time and distance did work as a balm, easing the pain and heart ache. Or so she thought.

She'd kept away for so long, severing all relationships and ties, not that she had that many. Her mom, her only family, had passed away a few years earlier. College friendships were always frail and destined to whither away. The only real relationship, the only person she left behind that she had had any real, meaningful history with had made it clear he was done.

His name was Kurt Weller. He was her next door neighbour as a child, her best friend growing up, and the first man she'd said those words to, those words she'd never said before, never said since. They'd fell madly in love, had a romance straight out of the novels. But they were young, naive, stubborn. And when they fought, they erupted, they exploded and they broke up in the most painful of ways. A few days later, she'd packed her bags and left, starting her life from nothing.

And she'd done well for herself, built a career, a successful one, built a life, made friends and had relationships. But nothing had been what she was looking for, no one was who she was waiting for. No one was Kurt.

And so, there she was, ten years later, once again, making up her life and moving across the world. She wasn't naive anymore, wasn't that little girl anymore, and she wasn't expecting to find him waiting for her at the airport, wasn't expecting to run back straight into his arms and pretend those ten years hadn't happened. Did a part of her hope she'd see him again? Of course. But she'd come to accept that he was a part of her past and that whatever she was moving back to wasn't him But she did miss home whatever that was.

Some things held a familiarity no matter where she was in the world, summer rains, loud thunder, sunsets, the smell of coffee in the morning, the crackle of pebbles under her sneakers during her morning runs and the joyous voices of children as they played. And so she found herself easing back into life in New York by gravitating to familiar things. And there she was, one morning, a sunny Sunday, taking a moment of respite on a park bench after a long run. She sat down and watched the few children playing across from her. It was too early and there were only a couple of kids with a few parents standing by, holding tightly to their coffees, obviously unhappy at being up so early on a weekend.

All except one, a tall blond man, who was joyfully playing catch with who she assumed was his son, a boy of eight or nine, curly ginger hair and a toothless smile. She watched them for a while, the boy closer to her while his father stood farther down across the green. It wasn't until the man moved a bit closer, to pick up a loose ball, and spoke loudly that she felt her heart stop pounding her chest. She's recognise that voice anywhere, recognise that heart warming laugh anywhere. It was Kurt Weller. It was unmistakably him. A bit older, a bit more weight around his waist, but he still looked good, handsome. And for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

Ten years were supposed to be long enough for her to forget. Ten years were supposed to be long enough for her to move on.

Ten years weren't enough.

She watched for a bit longer, feeling her chest tighten with every laugh they shared, with every teasing remark he shared with his son. When it got too much, she got up and left. And that night she cried. For the first time in almost a decade, she thought of Kurt Weller as she lay in bed, and she cried.

They weren't there the following Sunday. Or the one after that. And Taylor thought maybe Kurt was divorced, maybe he did not have full custody of his son. And that hurt even more, that Kurt couldn't spend more time with his son, or so it seemed, and from what she had seen, he loved him very much. And he looked like he was good father. A great father. Of course he would be, she thought to herself.

She saw them again three weeks later, and as she ran past them, she felt her heart beating even faster in her chest. She tried not to stare, forced herself to keep on running, and running, until the pain she felt in her muscles masked the one in her chest.

She saw them again the following week. And the one after, and a new wave of heartache passed over her as she thought that maybe her initial theory of him being divorced may be wrong.

She didn't know why she kept doing that to herself, the constant torture. There were more than enough parks in the city for her to run somewhere that didn't have her going back home and crying. But still ,she found herself gravitating back to that park, back to the exact time every Sunday, and keeping an eye out for him. She tried to tell herself to be happy for him. He looked happy. She kept reminding herself that it had been ten years, that it had been her who packed her bags and left the country. He didn't owe her anything.

She started work a few weeks after that, and that kept her busy. She drowned herself straight away, taking on case after case, impressing her new bosses. Let them be impressed, let them think I fucking love this job, she thought, better than them knowing I'm nursing a ten year old heart break. And she stopped going to the park. She stopped giving in to the invisible pull, to those invisible strings that never seem to have severed, the strings that tied her to the blue eyed boy next door.

She'd forgotten how harsh and unrelenting the winter were in New York, and as much as she loved this city, the unforgiving winter was something she'd never learned to cope with. She stood on the side walk, rubbing her glove clad hands, blowing into them to warm them up, as she waited her turn at the hot dog vendor's. She knew it wasn't the best choice for a healthy lunch, but it was quick and efficient and with her work load, those were enough reasons to go for the questionably cheap street food.

New York was loud city by nature, but every now and then, even that bustling every day noise was punctured by something different. And as she stood there, she heard screaming coming from down the street, loud voices yelling, people screaming.

"Move! MOVE! OUT OF THE WAY!"

"FBI! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

And then a large, heavy set man was coming straight at her. With no time to react, Taylor took a heavy hit, the man crashing straight into her, sending her flat on her back, knocking her out. And she didn't know what happened after that, being unconscious as the two agents arrested the man in question.

The next thing she remembered was someone saying her name and opening her eyes to stare straight into the blue that had haunted her for ten years.

"Kurt?" she said, trying to sit up, and his arms were quickly around her, as though they had never left, and he lifted her up, helped her back on her feet.

"It is you," he said, his hand going around to inspect her head injury, "You've cut your hair."

She stood there, speechless, slightly shocked that the first words he would say to her after ten years were those. She nodded slowly and before she could say anything, there were two paramedics guiding her away, away from him, and taking her to an ambulance.

He showed up at the hospital almost immediately and she could see him, pacing outside the room where they had her, a doctor checking on her. I'm fine! she wanted to scream at him. She just wanted to leave, to get out, to get away from him. One painful injury a day was enough for her.

But she wasn't to get out of it so easily because the moment the doctor stepped out, Kurt was in her room. And he stood there, just a few feet away from her, the distance between them suddenly occupied by ten years. Ten years, thousands of miles, and a thousand broken promises, a thousand arguments, and infinite regrets.

And neither said a word for what felt like an eternity.

And then he finally did.

"I like it," he said, "your hair… I like it short."

Screw you, she thought, I didn't cut it for you.

"Thanks," she whispered, unconsciously lifting her hand to tuck a strand behind her ear.

Another heavy silence fell between them and he didn't stop staring at her.

Don't you have a wife at home? She wanted to remind him, and her gaze fell to his hand, in search of a ring, but his hand were shoved deep in his pockets.

"You came back," he said and to that she could only nod. "How long have you been back?"

She shrugged, suddenly feeling like that stubborn naive girl she thought she'd left behind, "a couple of months."

"Why… why didn't you…" he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and she could see that vein throbbing in his neck. "I've mis-"

The door to the room suddenly swung open, a blond nurse on the other side, her eyes only on Kurt. "Are you ok?" she said worriedly, "they told you were here -"

"Yeah, yeah, Sarah, I'm fine, I…" Kurt said, and Taylor suddenly recognised the other woman. She was one of the few people she'd left behind too, Kurt's younger sister, Sarah.

Sarah realised that the person who was in the hospital was not her brother but rather… she turned to look at the patient and her eyes widened in complete shock. "Taylor?"

Taylor nodded, and before she knew it, Sarah had crossed the room and wrapped her in a tight embrace, and she was quickly reminded of why she'd always loved Sarah.

Sarah wasn't one to hold grudges, or let arguments, fights or anything like that get in her way. She truly let bygones be bygones. Taylor had abandoned her like she had Kurt, well not exactly, but she had left without saying good bye, but Sarah didn't seem to care because here she was hugging her old friend, honestly, genuinely and telling her how good she looked, how much she had missed her and how great it was that she'd come back.

She also knew better than to over stay her welcome. She quickly excused herself and made her way to exit. But not before pausing in front of Kurt for a moment. "You sure you don't mind watching Sawyer tonight? If you can't I'll call the si-"

"Don't worry, I got it," he said with a smile.

"Sawyer?" Taylor asked, not sure why.

Sarah looked back towards her and beamed. "My son," she said, walking back towards Taylor, showing her the back ground image on her phone. An eight year old boy with curly ginger hair and a toothless smile.

"Why'd you leave?" Kurt blurted out the moment Sarah stepped back out the door.

And even though she'd had ten years to think about it, to analyse it, him asking her that pissed her off.

"Why didn't you come after me?" she replied. They were both still very stubborn.

He crossed his arms over his chest, feet planted squarely under him. He still hadn't moved from his spot by the door.

"I didn't know you wanted me to," he admitted. And it was her turn to cross her arms.

"Why did you leave?" he asked again.

"You made it clear that -"

"I never said I wanted you to leave," he huffed, obviously ten years weren't long enough for him either, the wound still as sensitive as it had been back then.

"You never said you wanted me to stay either," she said.

He started to move then, baby step towards where she sat. Silently he walked towards her, his boots squeezing against the sterile hospital floor.

He stood in front of her, fingers itching to reach over and touch her, her knees brushing his thighs. He looked at her, really looked at her, and God she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. In her eyes he saw the mischievous five year old girl from next door, the one who climbed trees and hid from her mother in his tree house. He saw the shy teenager, walking down the stairs wearing a dress for the first time, awkwardly smiling at him as he waited to take her to the dance. He saw the fiery college student, the wild girl who'd convinced him to go to a concert four hours away the day before his big final, the girl who'd spent the entire concert sitting on his shoulder, and he didn't once complain. He saw the young woman who stayed up three nights in a row studying for her bar exam. The woman he'd held close at night, who fit perfectly in her arms, the first time he'd said those three words.

He had to touch her then, his hand finding hers, timidly almost.

"You were the only thing I had," she whispered, "and when you were gone, I had nothing left. I had no reason to stay. I had… I had to leave."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tightening his grip on her hand, "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I'm sorry… so sorry."

She leaned forward, "I'm sorry, too."

"I missed you."


End file.
